


Dying to Live (Something's Gotta Give)

by of_iron_and_ice



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Cannibalism, Chance Meeting, Eddie is the softest, M/M, Vampire AU, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-05 12:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12190005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/of_iron_and_ice/pseuds/of_iron_and_ice
Summary: On the run from the GCPD, Edward Nygma takes refuge in the old Van Dahl mansion and comes across Oswald Cobblepot, presumed dead for almost two hundred years. Will their time together result in Edward finding his new path, or will he prove as too much temptation for Oswald's hunger?





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda HAD to write this ever since I saw these little cuties, there's a story here just waiting to be told! 
> 
> https://suchgotham.tumblr.com/post/165377629584/the-au-i-never-knew-i-needed-with-vampire-oswald

The rain beat icy needles hard against Edward’s face as he ran, soaked to the bone and freezing cold. Troubles had been following him in recent weeks; ever since the tragic accident which had been Miss Kringle’s death, Ed had been fighting to suppress his inner ego. “It _was_ an accident.” Ed sighed breathlessly as he came to a stop, back pressed against tall, wrought iron gates.

‘ _Perhaps_ ,’ his mind uselessly supplied, setting Ed’s teeth on edge and springing tears to his eyes. ‘ _But you thoroughly enjoyed how it made you feel, didn't you? Her struggling under your hold, that fluttering pulse fading to nothing under your pa-’_

“That’s enough!” Ed cried, tears spilling down his cheeks. He was already struggling to regain his breath with each heaving inhale. “As if I don't feel terrible enough without you harping on at me and reinforcing my guilt.”

‘ _Oh, please. It was only a matter of time. She was a problem, Eddie, she had to go.’_

“I loved her!”

‘ _And yet she thought you was a monster. The GCPD would have found out about Dougherty, then what?’_

Ed chewed his lower lip and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will those thoughts away. “N-no.. she loved me too, she would never!”

Just as quickly as his mind supplied the detached voice it was gone, leaving a deep and foreboding laugh echoing in his ears in its place. _Well, it’s better than the taunting, I suppose._

Ed ruminated on the evening's events, he’d been spotted in the woods by none other than Jim Gordon, next to a freshly covered grave. There was no explaining or worming his way out of that no matter how he tried, and if not for his quick thinking to wrap the shovel around the detective’s head, he would likely be cuffed and on his way to Blackgate by now.

Kristen could still be alive and the outcome would still be the same; no matter how Edward wanted to believe she loved him and would never turn him in, he saw it in her eyes that night. She was ready to spill the beans to the police and his attempts to explain that that _isn't who he is_ resulted in her untimely death.

_‘See, she's better off dead.’_

This time, Ed chose to ignore his twisted mentality and dropped his chin to his chest, defeated. The wailing of police sirens sounded in the distance and snapped him from his thoughts immediately, his heart racing and eyes wide in search of his next move. It was only a matter of time before they found him, he had to leave the city and start anew if he ever wanted to escape a hefty sentence.

But there was no escaping on foot, and in such awful weather. The cops would catch him running and the game would be up. ‘ _Run, Eddie. Run_.’

Without further thought Edward turned to yank open the gate he was leaning on and slipped through the small gap that the chain allowed, tearing his shirt and putting a deep slice in his shoulder in the process. The pain hardly registered, instead he took off running again down a wide driveway to the old Van Dahl mansion, assumed abandoned for near enough two hundred years and the _perfect_ place for Ed to rest and gather himself enough to think.

Tales were widespread about this place, ghost stories that a man of science had little time for as that's all they were. Stories. Ghosts weren't real and Edward didn't concern himself with the gossip making it's way around Gotham.

Rumour had it that Elijah Van Dahl’s son had been spotted in the window, dark haired and pale skinned. A couple of kids had broken into the gardens and had been so terrified by him that they'd turned themselves in for petty vandalism, rambling on about ghosts and monsters.

“Preposterous.” Ed voiced aloud with a shake of his head, peering up at a round window in the tower. Van Dahl passed away two centuries ago, it was nothing more than rumour that his son was still living and locked away in the mansion.

Although he didn't believe in such nonsense, Ed couldn't deny the eeriness of the setting; overgrown vegetation and windows pelted by the rain, thick with dust and cobwebs on the inside. “Pfft. It's just an empty house, Ed.”

Brown eyes darted around behind clear lenses, searching for a point of entry and finding none. The windows were all intact, despite having been broken on numerous occasions by vandals and there was no doubt in Ed’s mind that the door would be locked. _Worth a shot_.

He gave a gentle push and found that it opened with ease, fortune was smiling on him for once and granted him a place to hide! Ed couldn't stop the beaming smile which spread across his features as he stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him and shaking the rain from his coat.

The scene was just as eerie inside as it was out, though entirely different. From outside Ed could see the dirt and grime, cobwebs, dust and years of building muck, yet inside it appeared spotless. There wasn't a thing out of place and everything was perfectly clean. _Perhaps I saw wrong_ , Ed mused as he shimmied off his coat, draping it on a hook.

Each step into the home was accompanied by a creak of floorboards, and Ed inwardly cursed himself for being so loud in a home that wasn't his.

_‘You dummy. There's no one here, relax.’_

“Stop talking.” Ed hissed into the empty hall, he hated when he showed up unannounced, making him near enough jump out of his skin with fright. “Go away. I can do this without your incessant chatter.”

_‘Feisty. Suit yourself.’_

Silence. Eerie, cold and awful silence. Ed almost wished he did have a little company, even if it was his own and instantly he regretted silencing himself. He peered around each corner before entering a room, fully exploring the place before he decided to settle down for the night. There was no telling who might be in here, with the door unlocked there could be all manner of scum finding refuge from the rain; murderers, thieves, worse.

Edward’s exploration came to a halt when he happened upon a library, overcome with boyish glee and a need to discover the pages waiting for him on the shelves. “Oh my..” Ed grinned, eyes scanning row upon row of books. He couldn't have chosen a better place to hide, this was months of entertainment if he decided to stay, and although he knew he wouldn't, it was a comforting and welcome thought.

All of a sudden Ed couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, and he whirled his head around with a pinch of his brow, squinting into the darkness. “You idiot, there's no one here.” Edward chastised himself and turned back to the shelf, plucking a book on medicine from the row and flicking through the pages.

The feeling never left him, and every so often Ed would look up from the pages to check that he was truly alone, finding nothing but an empty room and a flickering of the candle he’d lit to read.

Only two sections in, Ed grew bored. As a forensic analyst, any information the book held was useless to him as he knew it all like the back of his hand. With a sigh he rose to his feet, placing the book back on the shelf and dragging his finger across the spines of others, trying to pick out another.

Before he could, a cold puff of air fell upon the back of his neck and his entire body stiffened. He hadn't left the door open and every window was closed, so there was no way what he was feeling was a draft.

With wide eyes Ed turned slowly, a choked gasp parting his lips when he finally did. Standing before him was a man much shorter than him, with pale skin and jet black hair, a smirk tugging the corners of his lips.

“I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude I just..” Ed began and the stranger cocked his head in silence, eyes traversing his entire body before flicking up to meet his gaze once more. _Well.. that’s unsettling_. “I needed a place to stay and this is, well. A place.”

The man stepped closer and peered up at him with unnaturally bright eyes, still silent and seemingly curious. _Did I offend?_

“I assume your story is much the same? A-are you settling here? In hiding?” Ed offered, slowly backing away until the hard edges of the shelves met his back. Vagrants were unpredictable in his experience, who knew whether this man was going to attack him?

“Oh, no.” His voice was oddly soft when he spoke, and he stalked steadily closer until mere inches separated them. “I'm not hiding.”

“Ah,” Edward nodded and swallowed around the nervous lump in his throat, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. “Then.. what are you doing here?”

The man laughed and raised a hand, slowly tracing his index finger across Ed’s jaw. _The guy’s a creep and probably a murderer, great hiding place, Edward!_

“You first. I think I have the right to know who you are, after all I was here first.” Another tilt of his head shifted his hair and revealed oddly pointed ears, which in another setting might have been adorable and endearing. Accompanying pixie-like features, Ed would normally find them fascinating but in his current state of fear that was entirely impossible.

“I'm.. no one.” Ed all but squeaked, pressing himself further against the bookshelf. “Please, I'm sure we can come to some agree-”

A gasp cut his pleading short, the man surging forward with his entire body and pressing him hard against the wall. He traced his nose down the column of Ed’s throat and inhaled deeply. _Oh dear.. I'm a dead man!_

“You don't _smell_ like no one. What's your name?” The stranger took his jaw in a firm hold and tilted his head this way and that, examining him for reasons unknown.

“E-Ed.. Nygma! Please don't hurt me, I’m s-sure we can come to an agreement!” Ed stammered, terrified. “W-we don’t even have to stay in the same part of the house, you won’t know I’m here!”

“Why would I want you to leave so soon? You only just arrived.” The man’s voice was practically a purr as he drew uncomfortably closer, impossibly strong hands pressing at his torso. There was no other description for it, he was _smelling_ Ed’s neck and hair as if he wanted to make a meal of him. _If this wasn’t the most oddly terrifying moment of his life.._

“I’m not going to hurt you, Ed. I want to know why you’re here.” The stranger drew back, and Ed released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. His mouth opened and closed as he racked his brain for a response, but when none came the man rolled his eyes and let out a huff of laughter. “I’m rather perceptive, you see. I can tell you’re harbouring terrible secrets, and keeping secrets from your host is seen as horribly rude.”

“But this isn’t-- host?”

“Ah.. now I’m the one being rude.” He outstretched a pale hand in offering and gave a sharp grin. “Oswald Cobblepot.”

“O- _Oswald Co-_ You’re lying, there’s no..” Time seemed to halt, the only tangible thing to Edward was the hammering of his heart and the figure before him. Oswald Cobblepot was Elijah’s only son, and if he’d passed more than two hundred years ago it was an impossibility that his son was standing before him now.

This time when the man drew closer he tilted his head and picked his feet from the floor, levitating and reaching for him again. “Why would I lie? If we’re to be _housemates_ , honesty is the best policy. Is it not?”

“I..” Ed’s vision went fuzzy around the edges, all those horror stories coming to memory and flooding his mind with thoughts he wished weren’t there. This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. It had to be a dream, this whole thing, this whole day. Soon he’d wake up in his bed and none of this would have happened, least of all this! “I.. you.. _Ghost_..” With that his vision faded and his knees buckled beneath him, dropping him to the floor unconscious.

_This has to be a dream._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://heartpoisedfanarts.tumblr.com/post/165741039049/you-dont-smell-like-no-one-whats-your-name
> 
> Lucia is gonna kill me one day. Check out this amazing art! <3 ;__;
> 
> If you wanna chat, I'm at of-iron-and-ice.tumblr.com <3


	2. Chapter Two

A soft breeze tickled Ed’s forehead and gently roused him, morning sunlight filtering through as he cracked his eyes open. The first thing he noticed was a soothing and melodic lullaby from the far side of the room, pulling him from his slumber.

For a peaceful few moments Ed let himself sink into the pillows with the beginnings of a smile tweaking his lips, comfortable and content in the remnants of his dream-like state. Then the singing stopped and reality grasped him; this wasn't _his_ bed, and the voice wasn't part of his dream.

The last image he’d committed to memory was the supposed ghost of Oswald Cobblepot, two pale, soulless eyes boring into his own before his consciousness was gone, snuffed out like a candle. He bolted violently upright, throwing himself against the headboard with palms raised in defence.

“Finally.” Oswald muttered, watching Edward with a bored expression. He was lounging in an oversized chair a few meters from the bed, shrouded in shadow away from the light of the room. “I thought you'd sleep forever.”

Ed swallowed around the nervous lump in his throat and brought a hand to rest over an erratic heartbeat, only to find his chest bare. A wave of nausea washed through him, only the most sinister thoughts clouding his mind. _If he’s a ghost.. how did he move me here? And where’s my shirt?_ “Were you watching me sleep?”

Oswald raised a brow and scoffed, nonchalantly gazing in any other direction but Ed’s. “Don't flatter yourself, I was making sure you’d live. You knocked your head pretty hard on the way down.”

“And my shirt? Did that just _fall off_ on the way down too?” Ed fisted his blanket in both hands and tugged it tighter about himself, a petulant scowl pinching his features.

Slowly, Oswald turned to meet his stare with his mouth curling into a knowing smile. He pressed his fingertips together and tented his fingers as he leaned forward in his seat. “No. I removed it.”

Ed half expected him to explain himself but in place of an answer, all Oswald offered was silence. An uncomfortably long silence, in which all Edward could do was fret over the spectre’s intentions. After much too long, Ed could take the intense stare and taunting smirk no longer. “May I ask why?”

Oswald reclined in his seat and crossed one leg over the other. “Your shoulder. You had a nasty slice in it. It was no easy task I assure you, What with all the blood, but you’re bandaged up pretty snug now.”

Of course! In his fleeing from the cops yesterday, Ed had injured himself and in all the commotion he’d forgotten about it entirely. His felt his cheeks flame, embarrassed that the notion of anything more untoward had even entered his head.

“Cat got your tongue, Edward?”

“N-no, I..” Ed lifted his gaze and fixed Oswald with a scowl, but that soon vanished once dazzling green eyes met his own. They were unnaturally bright, glinting even from the darkness he was shrouded in and rendering Edward thoughtless. “Thank you. But-- are you really him? Oswald? Because if you are, then that means you’re a-”

“I’m a vampire.” Oswald stated with a finality that stunned Ed into silence. The two stared at one another for what seemed like an eternity, stoically save for the slow smile which stretched across Oswald’s face. _A vampire?_ It was the most ridiculous thing Ed had ever heard, and laughter bubbled from his throat, quickly becoming hysterics.

This was the worst prank anyone had ever tried to pull, and he could see it now; the prosthetic ears and contact lenses, pale make-up and that terrible act. The only thing not clear to Ed was who would go to such lengths to trick him; since his days as a forensic analyst and the harmless pranks his colleagues played on him, who would bother trying?

“Is there something you find particularly funny?” When Oswald spoke it was from right beside him and Ed flung himself against the headboard once more, his blanket clutched in white-knuckled fists. Up close he could see the glint in his eyes, even in the darkness of the room. How did he even close the curtains so quickly?

Edward scoffed and rolled his eyes, lips curling into a smirk once again after his short-lived fright. “You're a vampire. Huh.” Sure the guy was a little pasty and creepy looking.. but a _vampire_?

“And what are you going to do with me _Oswald_ -” air quotes made with his fingers aided his sentence, and the other’s eyes narrowed in response. "Are you going to kill me? Drink my blood? Please, this joke isn't funny any more. In fact, you're getting on my every last nerve.”

“Oh there's nothing amusing. And I'm not sure I like what you're insinuating.” Oswald tilted his head in question and began crawling toward him, and then over him before Ed could think twice about stopping him. The light-hearted teasing was gone, replaced by his heart hammering wildly against its rib cage. “It’s not a joke. Would you like me to prove it to you, Edward?”

Ed swallowed dry, panic overcoming his brain’s need to put a rational explanation to all of this, and instead picking up on the unnatural glow of his eyes, those pointed ears and even sharper teeth. He hadn't noticed before but now the pair were nose to nose, and up close there was no denying the jutting of canines beneath his upper lip when he smiled.

“I don't think that’s necessary-”

“Oh but it is.” Oswald ran the tip of his nose up the column of Ed’s throat and over his pulse, one hand gripping the headboard beside him and the other holding him in place with his uninjured shoulder. “You claim that you think I'm lying, but I can smell your fear. It's oozing out of every pore.”

“I'm not afraid of you.” The waver in Ed’s voice gave him away and Oswald laughed low in his throat, the vibrations of it rippling through Ed too. Those pointed teeth were dangerously close to his neck, and when the man licked a wet stripe up his throat his entire body seized. “Th-that’s enough.”

A shuddered breath parted Ed’s lips and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will away whatever nightmare this was by simply blocking out the sight of it.

“Definitely afraid. You see, Edward, I know more about you than you think I know.” Now that Oswald had frightened him half to death he pulled back to sit on Ed’s thighs. “Perhaps I know more than you do yourself.”

“You don't _know_ anything about me.”

“I know that you're still hiding something. Death, I can smell it clinging to every fibre of your being and no matter how you try to shake it, one cannot rid themselves of who they truly are.” The man’s features took on a pensive expression before he schooled himself and fixed Ed with a blank stare again. “How many people?”

Edward furrowed his brow and scowled at the man, he scarcely knew him! Why would he share such information with a complete stranger, and one who claimed he was a vampire?

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Come now, don't be shy.” Oswald all but purred and shifted in his lap, the tone in his voice so seductive that Ed couldn't deny it stirred parts of him he’d rather not think about. “How many have you killed?”

Twisting beneath him, Ed huffed and his face pinched in a scowl. Oswald wasn't getting the hint, clearly whichever brain defect had him believing he was a vampire was hindering his judgement on personal space too. “Two. It's about to be three if you don't-”

Oswald pressed a finger to his lips and studied him with a curiosity Ed wasn't sure he liked. He was sure he must have looked like a deer in the headlights, all big brown eyes peering up at Oswald as he waited for his next move.

“Enough with the empty threats. I could tear you apart piece by piece if I wanted to, you're only lucky that I don't.” With a small smile, Oswald shifted his hand to take hold of Ed’s chin, tilting his head to force eye contact. “We all have a little darkness in us, some more than others. You've been conditioned to think it's a bad thing, when the reality is that it isn't.”

“I don't see where you're going with- doesn't matter. I appreciate your hospitality, sir, but I best be on my way.” _Away from this creep. I'd rather be rotting in Blackgate than spend another moment of my time here._ Ed tried to extract himself from beneath Oswald but found himself pinned, with unnatural strength and weight.

“Ah, ah. You aren't going anywhere.”

“Are you going to kill me?

Oswald gave yet another roll of his eyes and sighed, clearly annoyed for reasons unknown to Ed. “ _Kill you_? Really? No. If I wanted to do that I would have done it already and believe it or not, I _like_ you. Dying would certainly diminish your charm.”

 _He likes me_? Ed was silent for a long moment, trying to make sense of the fact this apparent ‘vampire’ liked him when not another soul in Gotham seemed to. Though if Oswald’s speech about darkness was anything so go by he supposed the two of them were more alike than he realised.

“You can help me.” Oswald cut the silence and stated rather matter-of-factly, more of an order than an invitation.

Edward gave up the struggle and huffed, sinking back into the mattress. “And how might I do that?”

A small huff of laughter and Oswald leaned in, his breath hot on Edward’s ear as if about to share a secret of sorts. “At times I find myself insatiable. No matter how much I drink, I will always need more, and I can't very well keep leaving a trail of bodies confirming my existence.”

Back at the lab, now Ed came to think of it, there had been a minute amount of bodies come into his care with puncture wounds to their jugular veins, their cases never solved. But not nearly enough to raise suspicion, only three or four had been examined by him.

“I don't see what that has to do with me.” Ed mumbled and dropped his head back against the wall, suddenly feeling queasy and taking on a sickly pallor.

“You don't know how tiring it is to have to hunt, feed and dispose of the remains before the sun comes up. I can just about manage it when there’s a storm or a lot of cloud cover but when there isn't..” Oswald waved his hand through the air as if to explain but Ed didn't catch on, he only peered down the end of his nose at him and sighed. “I have to leave the bodies behind, as soon as I see the beginnings of sunrise. You can help me with that part.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I'll kill you.” A shrug of Oswald’s shoulders had Ed lifting his head from the wall, just in time to feel a cold hand softly curling around his throat. “It's nothing I haven't done before and if you can't assure me that we’re partners in all of this, we can't have you running around the city spreading rumours now can we?”

It felt like the breath had been knocked from Ed’s lungs, and he could feel the fluttering of his pulse beneath Oswald’s palm. One nick there and he’d be dead, with no one to even care to look for him.

_‘C’mon, would it be so bad? No cop is ever going to think to look for you here. What he's offering is safety and security, take it!’_

For a moment Ed forgot where he was, his inner ego startling him from reality. “Yeah until I'm caught with a body and hauled to jail.”

“Pardon?” Oswald stared down at him, puzzled, and released his hold on Ed’s neck.

“I-I'm sorry, I'm just-”

_‘Talking to yourself?’_

“Talking to myself. Happens more often than I'd like to admit.” He punctuated his sentence with a nervous giggle before drawing his lower lip into his mouth, embarrassed.

Oswald didn't even attempt to hold back the look of confusion, and Ed cursed himself for letting himself slip so easily into talking to him around others. It had only happened once before with Kristen and it had been far more difficult to explain to the love of his life.

“Is that a yes, Ed?” Cold fingers caressed his cheek and he instinctively leaned into the affectionate touch. At this point he could care less if he was being manipulated; Oswald liked him and was stroking his face with such care that he couldn't bring himself to mind.

“I'd like to think on it.” The stroking stopped and Ed’s eyes shot wide, suddenly afraid that he’d made the wrong move and was about to lose his life. “I- I mean! I mean, I'm leaning more towards yes than no.. you’re- I mean I'm-”

“Relax. Sleep on it.” Oswald cooed with such an expressionless stare that Ed still wasn't certain he’d live the night. “You're still injured, and likely not thinking clearly.”

With a nod, Ed watched as Oswald climbed from his lap and from the bed, resuming his earlier perch in the large armchair. If Edward was honest with himself, he felt a twinge of disappointment; Oswald was right. He _had_ been enjoying his close proximity and more than anything he wished those deft fingers were still caressing his skin and combing through his hair and-

_‘A little needy, aren't we?’_

Fighting the urge to respond, Ed slid down the mattress and buried his head in the pillows, trying to ignore the feel of those eyes on him from the shadows.

“Was.. was that you singing to me before?” Ed whispered, and the silence which followed almost suggested he hadn't been heard.

“Yes. Why?”

Cheeks blazing, Ed buried his face in the pillows and mumbled. Pathetic, what must he think of me? “I’d quite like it if you could sing again. I have a feeling it would help me sleep somehow.”

A soft chuckle and the sound of Oswald shifting in his chair, and the soft melodic voice began again.

_“The fire has gone out, wet from snow above,”_

And as if by some magic, Ed felt a smile long since forgotten creeping onto his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, sweet boys already.  
> I said this would be longer, but it just went on forever and I cut a lot of stuff out for next chapter!
> 
> If you wanna chat, I'm at of-iron-and-ice.tumblr.com <3


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing much happens here other than bickering and a little more discovery about Oswald, the fun begins next chapter, I promise!

When Edward woke again he was shrouded in darkness, and it was difficult to tell whether or not he even had his eyes open at all. Still dazed and half asleep, he wondered whether he’d been smothered in his slumber, his body drained of blood and dumped in some shallow grave around the Van Dahl mansion. Was he even alive?

A cold press at his chest pulled his features into a questioning frown, and when he reached to explore what it was his fingers curled around a thin wrist. Oswald.

“What are you doing?” Ed mumbled, his voice laden and groggy with sleep. This time he hadn’t the energy or thought to recoil from his host, and instead lay in uncomfortable silence whilst he waited for an answer. “Do you mind? If you’re quite finished, I’d-”

“Shh.”

Edward blinked and rubbed his eyes, his sight beginning to adjust to the darkness. He could just about make out the soft curve of Oswald’s face, the harsh edge of his pointed nose and those gleaming eyes cutting through the shadows. “Excuse me?”

“Be quiet. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to do this.” Oswald’s voice came in a whisper, his breath fanning over Edward’s face. He hadn’t even registered that he was this close until now, and he shifted uncomfortably beneath his touch.

As quietly as he could for fear of angering the man hovering over him, Ed cleared his throat and hesitantly parted his lips to speak. “Do.. _what_ , exactly?”

“You’re so warm.” The pain in Oswald’s tone was clear and Ed instantly felt the tension melt away, the hold on his wrist loosening. “And your heart, it beats so strong.”

“Do you want to hear it?” He didn’t know where the offer came from but before Ed could stop them the words were out and Oswald was staring at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly open in silent question. Edward felt a flush creeping onto his cheeks and he was only thankful that the room was so dark. “I’m sorry, what an odd question, a-”

 _“May I?”_ Oswald’s tone held nothing short of boyish glee and awe, and Edward couldn’t help but find it endearing. A slight nod was all it took for Oswald to duck his head, a pointed ear pressed against the bare flesh of his chest and listening intently.

With Oswald pressed up against his chest and the all consuming darkness, Ed lost track of time almost completely. The pads of his fingers grazed the sheets uselessly by his sides, fighting the urge to card through strands of raven hair and test for himself if it was just as soft as it looked. He wanted to pull him closer and tuck him against his side, wanted those hands back on his face and soothing him into his relaxed state. Edward knew he was fool for wanting that. _I’ve known him a day_. _He’s a monster, I can’t forget that._

“I’m hungry.” The statement came from nowhere and Ed tensed, the action pulling a snort of laughter from Oswald’s throat. “Oh my _god,_ relax! Do you think I’d be getting this close to you if I saw you as a fitting meal? You’re better than that, Edward dear.”

Ed actually felt his chest swelling with pride at the praise, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips before he scolded himself mentally for forgetting his earlier advice to tread carefully. “Hungry? I happen to be an excellent cook, I could always cook you up a nice steak?” _Prove myself useful without being his murdering lackey._

Oswald feigned gagging and and murmured protests against Ed’s chest, finally pulling back and replacing his ear with his hand once again. “I would like that just about as much as you would enjoy a bowl of dog biscuits. Thank you, Edward. For letting me hear that.”

“Oh.. it’s no trouble. You’re welcome to anytime.” This time, Edward’s smile broke out into a fully fledged grin, beaming from one ear to the other. How was it that a monster, who was keeping him hostage and had threatened to kill him just the previous day was showing more hospitality than anyone had shown him his entire life?

Still, as sweet as Oswald may have appeared with his ear against his heart, there was no reason to relax. He was a beast well renowned for its brutality and gruesome acts of violence, yet Ed couldn’t hold back the pink which tinged his cheeks for reasons even he couldn’t fathom.

_‘Now, now, does Eddie have another crush?’_

Oswald sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed and stared at him, unblinking. The cool of him against Ed’s chest had been comforting for the shortest time, but those piercing eyes flaying his soul only served to unsettle him now.

At a loss for words and shifting uncomfortably, Ed broke the silence first by clearing his throat and rearranging the sheets, patting them down around him. “Are we going to sit in the dark the whole time? Is it really necessary?”

“No, but I like it. Do you not?”

“I’d prefer it if I could actually see you.” _Damn it Edward!_ “S-See what I’m doing, I mean. I expect you can see much better than I can, and a good host should only want the best for his lodgers.”

Oswald had opened the curtains and taken his place on the bed with viper-like speed, Edward hardly registered his movements until he was back in place. The light from the window did little more than illuminate him in the soft glow of moonlight, highlighting striking cheekbones and only accentuating the pale glint in his eyes. He looked almost ethereal, even mostly painted in darkness.

“Is that what you are, Ed?” Oswald murmured as he leaned in closer, gazing at Ed through hooded eyes. “I was under the impression that we were partners. No matter, I could light candles, if you’re so afraid of the dark.”

Ed shot a glare over the frames of his glasses to catch Oswald’s expression tweaking in a smirk, and he scoffed with a shake of his head. “How many times do I have to tell you, I'm not _afraid.”_

“Aw.” Oswald pouted and shuffled closer still, stroking his thumb over Ed’s jaw. “You're precious when you're all flustered, Edward. And even more so when you're scared.”

With Oswald up close and painted in the pale light, Ed was rendered speechless. He briefly wondered whether there were many other creatures like him in the world, and whether they were all quite as beautiful. Smooth, alabaster skin with striking features drawing his eyes, Oswald truly was a sight he was sure he’d never tire of.

_‘You’re staring at him.’_

Ed opened his mouth to retort but was promptly silenced by the sound of his stomach growling. His host looked to him with raised brows and all he could offer was an apologetic shrug. When had he last eaten? Two days? _Three?_

“Would you like something to eat?”

Suddenly Edward felt nauseous, thinking back to Oswald’s disgust at the suggestion of steak. He didn't even need to _wonder_ what he wanted to cook for him, and his eyes were wide in fear that Oswald might just force him to adopt his diet.

“I don't… I don't think so. Perhaps I'll find something when you let me leave, I don't much feel like becoming a cannibal.”

Oswald let out a shrill laugh and stood from the bed, his fingers snagging Ed’s wrist and tugging to encourage him to finally get up. “Don't be so ridiculous. I have potatoes, fruit, vegetables. I'm about to fix something up for myself, it would be rude of you to decline. And please, I'm not a _cannibal_. After all I'm not exactly human."

“Aren't you meant to feast on the blood of the innocent or something? I mean you're a vampire. _Supposedly.”_ That earned him a sharp glare as he trailed behind Oswald, who was floating a few inches from the ground and gliding before him as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Can you please stop doing that? It's unnerving.”

“Doing what exactly?”

 _“That!”_ Ed pointed at his feet with a harsh jab and frowned. “Put your feet down. It's odd.”

“Not to me it isn't.”

“Well can you please cut it out?” He jerked his wrist from Oswald’s hold and huffed, watching him awkwardly settle his feet on the ground and begin _reluctantly_ walking. “Anyway- as I was saying; if you are a vampire, isn't your diet strictly blood?

“You believe that old wives tale? Blood and the meat of humans is the main staple of my diet, yes. But how boring would it be if I was so limited? There's only so much you can do with blood.”

“But.. you turned your nose up at steak. I thought..”

“Can a creature of the night not have his preferences? Tsk, you should be ashamed of your prejudices, my dear Edward.” Oswald teased with a glance over his shoulder and Ed scowled. How was he meant to know what a mythical beast did or didn't eat? “If you had tried my diet for even a day, you wouldn't want to go back to eating bland old steak either. I can eat it, but the taste is not one I enjoy. I need your kind to survive, but I can eat whatever I please.”

“Oh..” was all Edward could manage as Oswald took his hand in his own and led him blindly through a winding maze of halls. From the outside the mansion didn't look nearly as big, but he supposed with all the overgrown greenery, much of the exterior was hidden.

“I'm afraid I don't have much. Your meal may be rather tasteless without a little meat. Are you sure you wouldn't like to try?”

“Would you stop saying that?” Ed muttered as he caught the suggestive waggle of Oswald’s brows. “It's not _meat,_ it was a living person once.

“And the steak you offered me was once a living cow. Why should one’s life matter more than the others?”

Ed could only frown and contemplate that sentiment in silence as he was ushered to a table and prompted to sit, Oswald quickly busying himself with washing and chopping various foods. It was only when Oswald opened the fridge and pulled out a whole and bloody human leg that Ed paled, instinctively pushing his chair back from the table.

The screech of chair legs across the tile pulled Oswald’s attention and he sighed, placing the limb aside and turning to him. “What? Do you have a problem with this? Because if you do..”

“No! No I'm just.. not comfortable with you eating that in front of me is all.”

 _‘Watch your phrasing, Eddie.’_ His inner voice warned. _‘If you're not careful, it’ll be your feet in his freezer.’_

Edward offered a sheepish smile and shuffled closer to the table, swallowing down the nervous lump gathering in his throat.

“Not comfortable?” Oswald stalked closer with a predatory glint in his eye, perching on the edge of the table mere inches before him. “Tell me, how did you dispose of your two victims? Did you chop them up? Burn them? Put them in the ground?”

“Miss Kringle is buried, with a proper goodbye, might I add.” Ed suddenly felt defensive of his former girlfriend, his annoyance prickling despite his warning. He thought of the last time he saw her, cut up and stuffed in a box not much bigger than oswald’s chest freezer. Where was the respect there?

“What a _waste!_ I assume this woman meant something to you, what with that sickening look of love in your eye. And instead of making use of her remains, you're allowing her to rot in the ground.”

“That's not how-”

“Yet you'll eat a chicken. A cow. A pig.”

“That's not the point!” Ed bellowed, tears prickling his eyes.

Oswald heaved a sigh and crossed to the counter, stuffing the leg back in the freezer and slamming it shut. “Listen, I'm not making you eat this. And I'll go without for tonight, for your _comfort_ only. Tomorrow, you start helping me and your stomach will just have to adjust to the sight of meat, no matter the animal it's cut from.”

As he went back to cooking Ed couldn't shake the nausea, every slide of the carving knife against the wooden worktop cover just brought images of steel scraping on bone as it cut away the flesh. A shudder racked his body and his hands balled into fists in his lap, lower lip pinched between his teeth in his attempt to will those thoughts away.

 _‘And to think, you actually like the guy. Though I must admit, he is awfully handsome. But he's a monster Eddie, are you up to the challenge? Eat or be eaten. Quite literally!’_ And just like that the laughter was back, his accompanying self clawing his way from the darker recesses of his mind.

“Don't be such a baby.” Oswald broke the silence after a while and Ed jostled from his mind, eyes wide. _Can he read my thoughts too?_

“I- I didn't say anything.” Ed stammered, remembering just the kind of _thoughts_ he was having the previous day when Oswald’s mouth had found his throat.

He slid a plate to Edward and took his seat opposite, a fork balanced delicately between his fingers. “No, but you're disgusted. But why? You're a killer. You did this exact same thing.”

“I didn't eat either of them.” He wasn't sure that Oswald had heard him at all, for he didn't answer and Edward's eyes were drilling through the plate as he examined each and every morsel of food. This continued for a few long moments before Oswald clicked his tongue and placed his fork down, his hands tucked beneath his chin as he stared.

“You’re being rather rude. I can assure you there are no traces of meat in your meal. I even washed my hands before I served up.” Pale fingers wiggled in front of him as if to prove their cleanliness.

Tentatively he pushed a small potato past his lips and chewed it around, brow furrowed as he peered up at Oswald. He was watching Ed intently and that put him off further; the only audience he’d had in recent years for any meal was Kristen, usually he dined alone and he _liked_ it that way.

“Thank you for the meal. But I can't eat while you’re staring at me like that.”

Oswald laughed and raised his hands before him in apology before turning back to his own meal, chewing away happily. “Cranky when you're hungry. I can tell.”

Ed scowled and rolled his eyes, forcing another chunk of potato in his mouth. He wasn't a child, and he’d be damned if he let Oswald speak to him as such.

The shattering of glass broke the silence and Oswald sat bolt upright in his seat, grinning maniacally. “What.. was that? What are you smiling at?”

“That, dear Ed, signals the beginning of our partnership. Almost weekly, rogues put my windows through and I reckon they need teaching some manners.” Oswald whispered, prompting Ed to place his cutlery down with a furrowed brow. What?

“I know you're smarter than that. It's time to prove your worth. _Kill them. Go.”_

Ed froze, equal parts excitement and terror coursing through his veins. His alter ego was chomping at the bit, dying to get going and see some action, some fun.

“What are you waiting for? Go!”

_Oh dear._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wanna chat, I'm at of-iron-and-ice.tumblr.com <3


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